Free Sugar by Hope Tarr, Jenna Jameson Page B

yet we hadn’t. I was going through some stuff in my apartment, and I came across a box of DVDs—your movies. I would have brought a couple so you could autograph the boxes but knowing how prickly you can be, I didn’t want to presume.”
    Sarah rested a fisted hand on either hip. “What are you going to do?”
    A lifting of black brows greeted her question. Chewing, he took his sweet time in answering, “Well, I’m not going to TMZ if that’s what you’re worried about. Given you obviously Googled me, you must know I don’t need the money or the media attention.”
    As a Canning living in New York, he would have an abundance of both. It didn’t hurt that he was young and hot and heralded as a hero. Still, sometimes people did crazy, illogical things for no apparent reason, and Sarah’s safety was at stake. Tipping off the media meant tipping off her stalker as well. Even a casual comment made in passing could bring heavy consequences. If he’d talked, or worse bragged, about sleeping with her, she needed to know.
    Pointedly she demanded, “Have you told anyone ?”
    Biting off more of the fruit, he shrugged. “The only person I’ve talked to since I last saw you is Carlos . . . my doorman. We exchanged opinions on the Yankees versus the Red Sox—he’s from Boston—but that’s about it.” Swallowing, he added, “What makes you so sure I’m going to out you?”
    She was the world’s highest-paid porn star, as well as the only female actor in her industry to launch her own production company. Did he really imagine she’d gotten to that level by being dim? “I dunno, let me think. Bragging rights?”
    Tossing the apple core into the can, he looked at her askance. “Do I seem like a guy who needs to come up with shit to brag about?”
    He had her there. “No,” she admitted.
    Even though she’d met Cole fewer than twenty-four hours ago, he struck her as a lone wolf, not a pack animal. Last night he’d been out by himself. He’d just admitted he’d been on his own again today. More to the point, he couldn’t out her without outing himself. Considering his social standing and position in the philanthropic community, sleeping with a porn star would be seriously bad press.
    But the problem of Cole Canning remained and not only because he was once again inside her apartment. She couldn’t undo meeting him, even if she wanted to—and to be honest she wouldn’t want to. More than just sex, their night together stood as a powerful symbol of reclaiming her sexuality, her body, as hers alone. Maybe there was a way to turn the situation into a win-win. She was a former porn star living incognito and looking for a partner she could trust to pleasure her privately and discreetly. Cole was a rich guy with a sexual appetite to match hers and a similar desire for discretion. Based on the previous night, they were compatible—okay, incredible—together in bed. As long as they stuck to their mutually agreed upon rule of no-strings-attached sex, there was no reason the situation couldn’t work brilliantly for them both.
    Suddenly ravenous, Sarah tore off a stalk of celery from the bunch and bit in, the briny juice squirting into her mouth. The salty taste reminded her vaguely of Cole. Assuming he stuck around for a while, she looked forward to having him come in her mouth on occasion.
    Imagining his spray striking the back of her throat, she swallowed—hard. “I have a proposition for you?”
    The glint in his eye was back, as was the boner pressing against his pants. “A proposition, huh? I like the sound of that.”
    Swallowing, she said, “Hadn’t you better wait until you hear it?”
    “Okay, let’s have it.”
    “You can walk away now, and we never see each other again, or you can stick around for a sex-only relationship strictly behind-the-scenes.”
    A black brow lifted. “Are we talking exclusivity?”
    Sarah hesitated, mulling that over. “For safety’s sake, that would probably be